Two of the older board members looked uncomfortable in the way that men look uncomfortable when a plan they endorsed has started showing cracks. The third, a woman named Adrienne Park, who Marcus had always clocked as the sharpest person in any room she entered, looked like she had made a decision and was at peace with it. Hawthorne came out last. He was still composed, still wearing the suit correctly, but something around his eyes was tighter than it had been that morning in the lobby, and Marcus, who noticed everything, noticed that. Then Victoria came out.
She walked past Hawthorne without looking at him. She said something brief to Adrienne Park, who nodded once firmly. Then she crossed the lobby toward the main entrance and Marcus was 15 ft away doing something entirely professional with a lighting panel and she saw him and stopped. Hawthorne saw her stop. Hawthorne saw who she stopped for.
Marcus watched that register on the man's face. A small controlled recalibration like a chess player who has just noticed a piece on the board he had not accounted for. Victoria said to Marcus evenly. "Go home. Get some sleep."
"How'd it go?" He asked. "I'll tell you tomorrow." She held his gaze for 2 seconds longer than was strictly professional. "Go home, Marcus."
He went home. He did not sleep well, but he slept. The next morning at 6:15, Ava was at the table with her fork and Marcus put eggs in front of her and she said without looking up. You stayed late at work last night. Calibration work.
She looked up. Dad, there was a situation. He said it's handled. She studied him. Is Victoria okay?
He looked at his daughter across the table. She was 10 years old and she had her mother's eyes and she had apparently developed opinions about his boss that she had not fully disclosed until this moment. Why do you ask that? Because the last three times you've been stressed about work, you say there was a situation and then you get this look that you get when something matters more than you want to admit. She speared a piece of egg and the only thing at that building that matters to you more than the building itself is her.
Marcus was quiet for a long moment. "She's fine," he said. "Are you fine?" "Getting there," Ava pointed her fork at him. "You should tell her."
"Tell her what?" She gave him the look. The Angela looked patient and precise and utterly unbothered by his deflection. "Dad, I'm 10, not four." He drank his coffee.
She went back to her eggs. He dropped her at school and drove to work and arrived at 7:50, which was 10 minutes earlier than usual, which was the kind of detail that nobody tracked except him. Victoria called him at 8:17. My office, she said, when you're done with your morning checks. Give me 30 minutes, he said.